Pyre
by RoyalDelta
Summary: Twelve moons ago, WindClan drove out their tyrannical leader, and they are currently enjoying a time of peace and prosperity. However, after their medicine cat has a strange dream from StarClan, they fear their days are numbered and that it won't be long before an old enemy returns to wreak havoc on the forest. Set in the lake territory, rated T for violence.
1. Prologue

Hi, all! This is my first story, and I hope you like it, because I may parlay it into a four-part series. There aren't a lot of characters listed for the other Clans, and that's on purpose. This story will focus primarily on WindClan.

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WindClan

Leader: Ruddystar-red-brown tom

Deputy: Raggedfur-thick-furred brown tom with a scar across his throat

Medicine Cat: Cloudfur-scruffy, long-legged white tom

Warriors

Antclaw-dark brown tabby tom

Spiderpelt-black tom

Apprentice, Runningpaw

Fennelfur-wiry gray she-cat

Apprentice, Pollenpaw

Batwing-lithe black tom

Apprentice, Hailpaw

Addertail-pale ginger tom

Apprentice, Frostpaw

Amberspots-tortoiseshell she-cat

Doveflight-light gray she-cat with a white chest

Sageheart-dark gray tabby she-cat

Apprentice, Rufflepaw

Eaglewing-dark brown tabby tom

Cricketleap-thin brown tom with a white streak down his face and neck

Apprentices

Runningpaw-dark brown tom with long legs

Pollenpaw-pale ginger she-cat

Hailpaw-gray tabby tom

Frostpaw-very light gray tom

Rufflepaw-fluffy brown tabby she-cat

Queens

Breezeflower-gray tabby she-cat with white front paws

Lichenfur-white she-cat with gray tabby splotches, Batwing's mate (Kits: Pricklekit-black tom, Briarkit-gray tabby she-cat, Badgerkit-black-and-white tom, Owlkit-black tom)

Elders

Sheepfur-white tom with a curly pelt

Rabbitfoot-skinny brown she-cat

Fluffytail-gray she-cat with a thick tail

Icewind-gray-and-white she-cat

RiverClan

Leader: Otterstar-pretty brown tabby she-cat

Deputy: Thornwhisker-large ginger tom

Medicine Cat: Lilypool-white she-cat with dark ginger splotches

Apprentice, Flamepaw

Warriors

Blackmask-gray tabby tom with thick stripes

Heronflight-blue-gray she-cat

Apprentice, Swanpaw

Queens

Brushfire-calico she-cat with green eyes

ShadowClan

Leader: Snakestar-long-haired gray tom

Deputy: Teakfur-dark brown tabby tom

Medicine Cat: Onespot-light brown tabby tom with one white spot on his side

ThunderClan

Leader: Whitestar-small white tom

Deputy: Foxjaw-dark ginger she-cat

Medicine Cat: Moleclaw-light brown tom

Rogues

Ashstar-long-haired dark gray tabby tom, formerly the leader of WindClan

Stormfeather-gray tabby tom with a white underbelly

Marshfoot-dark brown tom, formerly the deputy of WindClan

Tangleclaw-dark ginger tom

Rosethorn-dark ginger she-cat

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**Prologue: Many Moons Ago**

The thick layer of ash gave way under Galestar's paw. He carefully picked his way through the charred underbrush, his eyes wide as he took in the damage. He could still feel a lingering heat prickling at his skin even through his thick fur. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke, and tendrils of it still rose lazily from the plants that once guarded the WindClan camp.

Galestar slipped between the smoldering branches and into the small dip in the earth where his Clan lived. The clearing was a stranger—the grass had been burnt away, the plants at the edge of the slope were blackened, and the Tallrock, where Galestar addressed his Clan, was streaked with soot. Galestar could only be thankful that the fire hadn't destroyed much of their hunting grounds and that the Clan was safely tucked away, anxiously waiting to hear news of their home.

As his gaze swept over the camp, he spotted two figures sitting at the base of the Tallrock, their eyes trained on what remained of the nursery. Galestar called out a soft greeting, and the two toms turned. In the dim light of the moon, their gray pelts were nearly the same shade, and they turned identical pairs of bright blue eyes on their leader. They were Smokefur and Brackenclaw, his medicine cat and deputy but also his sons.

Smokefur, a tom whose pelt was just slightly darker than his kin's, spoke up first. "Is the Clan alright?" he asked.

Galestar nodded. "Yes, thank StarClan," he said. "They're waiting by the stream for the all clear." Galestar paused, sighing as he drank in more of their scorched camp. "Were there any casualties?"

Smokefur's ears flattened against his neck. "Yes," he said, his gaze trailing to the nursery. "Some of the kits didn't get out in time."

Galestar gasped. There were only two queens nursing kits in the Clan, and he had already seen Tawnyleaf herding her sons into their makeshift shelter. He looked to Brackenclaw, and the deputy hung his head.

"They were mine," Brackenclaw choked out. "They're… they're all dead."

Galestar's heart sank. From the minute they were born, Brackenclaw had loved his kits. He spent what little free time he had crowding his poor mate or standing guard outside the nursery wall. Galestar stepped forward to touch his nose to his son's shoulder. He understood the grief after losing a kit. Smokefur and Brackenclaw were the only two of his six kits to survive the cruelty of the forest.

A shrill cry split the smoke-latent air. There was a crash in the underbrush, and two cats appeared, one silky black and the other light brown. They were both queens and both had just come a long way, judging by their heavy breathing and soot-covered paws. The black she-cat sprinted right over and skidded to a halt beside Galestar. Out of the corner of his eye, Galestar caught Brackenclaw looking away in shame. The she-cat was Crowpelt, Brackenclaw's mate.

"Did you find them?" she demanded. "Are they alright?"

The other queen brushed against her shoulder. "Hush," she murmured. "There's no reason to—

Crowpelt's lips curled back in a snarl. "Leave me alone, Tawnyleaf!" she snapped. "You know your kits are safe! Now let me find mine!"

"You're too late," Smokefur said bluntly. Crowpelt's eyes widened. "They were lost in the fire. Brackenclaw and I were just about to bury them."

The black queen began to tremble. Her eyes flickered from Smokefur to Brackenclaw and back again. "N-No," she stammered. "They can't—I won't—I won't believe it!"

Brackenclaw stepped towards her. He gently pressed his nose to her shoulder, but Crowpelt stared forward as though she couldn't feel it. "I'm sorry, Crowpelt," he murmured into her fur. "I'm so sorry."

The queen shut her eyes. "This is _your _fault," she growled, every hair on her pelt standing on end. "You told me to leave them. You told me you would go back for them." She pulled away from him and stared Brackenclaw dead in the eyes. "I would've rather _died_ with them."

Brackenclaw recoiled. "I was only trying to protect you," he said quietly. "I—"

"Be quiet," Crowpelt snarled. Her whole body was shaking.

"I—"

"I said _quiet_!" Every cat in camp flinched as Crowpelt struck Brackenclaw's face. Blood dripped from her needle-like claws. Brackenclaw's eyes were wide as he stared down at the camp floor. "I hate you," Crowpelt snarled, her voice thin from grief. "Don't ever speak to me again!"

Brackenclaw said nothing as she shoved past him towards the nursery. When he raised his head, Galestar saw the beginnings of new scars on his muzzle and across the fragile skin of his eyes. He was lucky she didn't blind him. Silently, Brackenclaw got to his feet and followed after her, leaving droplets of blood in the blackened earth. Galestar, Smokefur, and Tawnyleaf followed at a distance.

A low wail rose up from the nursery. Crowpelt had found her kits at last.

They watched wordlessly as she emerged from the wreckage with a tiny gray body dangling from her jaws. The fire had lapped at its hind legs, and its face was contorted with fear. Crowpelt knelt beside the Tallrock and laid her kit to rest at its base. Tawnyleaf had to look away.

"It's not fair," she murmured as Crowpelt went back in. "No queen deserves this."

Galestar silently added his agreement. Crowpelt returned with a little black body this time, a kit whose fur was beginning to shimmer like hers. Moments later, she appeared a third time with another gray kit. Brackenclaw left the group to crouch beside the bodies of his kits.

"We hadn't even named them," he murmured. "They had only just opened their eyes." He squeezed his eyes shut from the grief and rocked forward, his forehead pressed against the gray kit's fur. "Why? Why did StarClan take them from us?"

Crowpelt went back into the nursery a fourth time, but she came out empty with a confused look on her face. She went over to the bodies of her kits and shooed Brackenclaw with a soft hiss and an outstretched paw. She bent down and counted them before straightening up, her tail lashing behind her.

"What's wrong?" Smokefur asked.

"I had four kits," Crowpelt replied. "There are only three here!"

Brackenclaw brightened as though someone had breathed new life into him. "Maybe he escaped into the heather!" he said excitedly. "They're our kits. They have to be clever!"

Crowpelt narrowed her eyes at him and looked to Smokefur. Smokefur shrugged. "It's certainly possible," he said, though he didn't appear convinced.

"We'll search the area around the camp," Galestar offered. "Smokefur, Brackenclaw, come with me."

Eyes shining, Crowpelt dipped her head. "Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so much."

As the three toms began to leave, Brackenclaw tried to brush his tail along Crowpelt's flank to comfort her. She turned away from him and walked into the nursery without looking back. Brackenclaw's jaw dropped, and he solemnly trailed after his kin with his ears pressed against his neck.

When they had gone, Tawnyleaf got up and followed her friend into the burnt nursery. It was dark, but she could see the outline of Crowpelt sifting through the branches and ash.

"Do you really think the kit survived?" she asked quietly.

Crowpelt froze for a moment. She looked to her friend, her green eyes bright in the darkness. "I have to," she said, her voice trembling. "They couldn't have all been taken. I'd never believe in StarClan again."

Tawnyleaf nodded in understanding. She had two sons, two happy, healthy sons, but she had nearly lost them to whitecough two moons ago. She had laid awake with them every night in Smokefur's den, helplessly looking to Silverpelt and pleading with StarClan to spare them. Tawnyleaf got to her feet and began sorting through the wreckage as well.

_It they were my kits, Crowpelt would do anything to find them,_ Tawnyleaf thought. _It's only fair that I return the favor. _

They searched in silence for several minutes before Crowpelt came across a rather large chunk of woven heather. She ducked down and used her shoulder to overturn it. There, cowering in the shadows, was a tiny, gray kit. She yowled in surprise and almost leapt back.

"What is it?" Tawnyleaf asked as she rushed over. "What—" She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the little kit. "I don't believe it," she murmured. "He's alive!"

The kit raised its head. He opened milky blue eyes and looked up at Crowpelt. Recognizing his mother, he let out a mew and threw himself at her, burying his face into her fur. Crowpelt felt relief wash over her, and for a moment, she could do nothing but stare up at Silverpelt in gratitude. Then her kit mewed again, and she bent down and began washing the ash from his fur with long, soothing licks. A purr rumbled in her throat.

"It's a miracle," Tawnyleaf said. She sat and curled her tail around her paws. "StarClan must have big plans for the little kit that hid in the ashes."

Crowpelt stopped her grooming mid-lick. She raised her head, and Tawnyleaf saw the warriors of Silverpelt reflecting in her gaze. "That's it," she said. "Ashkit." She looked down at her son with a swell of pride. "I'll name him Ashkit."

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Liked it? Leave a review. Hated it? Leave a review anyway! I promise to try and stick to a schedule of updating every Friday.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The sky overhead was just beginning to redden as four little kits ducked into the medicine cat's den. It was their mother's day off, given a break from her duties by a less than watchful elder whom the kits had ditched within minutes. They had gone out on the moors, played tag, played battle, and now they were bored again.

The smallest of the four, a little black tom, spoke up as they were bathed in cool shadow. "I-I-I don't think this is a good idea, Pricklekit," he said. "What if Cloudfur comes back?"

Pricklekit, a tom with unruly fur, scoffed. He was larger than his brother, but they shared the same black coat and amber eyes. "It'll be _fine_, Owlkit," he said. "Tonight's the Half Moon. Cloudfur is _always _excited to go to the Half Moon. He leaves super super early and stays super super late. He won't be back until tomorrow." Pricklekit let out a purr and began sniffing some of the herbs scattered around the den. "This is kinda messy," he purred. "Aren't medicine cats supposed to be neat?"

"I dare you to eat something," another kit dared. She was the only she-cat of the littler and the only one with a gray tabby pelt.

"Yeah, eat something nasty!" taunted the last of the kits, a black-and-white tom.

Pricklekit puffed out his chest. "Do you double dare me?"

The kits cheered, and Pricklekit let out a rumbly purr. "Okay then." He bent his head and carefully picked his poison. At only a few moons old, he knew nothing about herbs, but luckily managed to settle on a pile of poppy seeds. "How many should I eat?"

"All of them!" the she-cat squeaked.

"W-W-Won't that make you sick?" Owlkit asked.

Pricklekit scoffed again. "What's Cloudfur for anyway?"

He opened his mouth and was seconds from swallowing a poppy seed when a white paw darted out and smacked him upside the head. Pricklekit was so surprised that he nearly leapt out of his fur. He puffed up and retreated back to his siblings, shaking.

"I'll you what Cloudfur _isn't_ for," a gravely voice growled. The kits stared with wide eyes as a white figure emerged from the back of the den. He was long-legged and impressively tall compared to Pricklekit, with a thin frame and sky-blue eyes. The fur on his neck was scruffy, and his legs sported feather-soft fur that was just longer than the rest of his pelt. "Cloudfur isn't for healing kits mouse-brained enough to make themselves sick."

"H-How long have you been there?" Owlkit squeaked.

"All along," Cloudfur growled. "I was hoping you'd wise up and escort yourselves out but no such luck." The fur rose on his shoulders, and the kits cowered before him. "_Out_!" he hissed. "_Now_!"

The four kits tripped and scrambled over each other to escape. They streaked out of the den and across the camp to where the nursery stood beside the Tallrock. Cloudfur emerged from his den and stood at the entrance. "If you want to eat herbs so badly, I'll feed you deathberries!" Cloudfur shouted after them.

A soft voice purred beside him. "Is that your grumpy elder routine?"

Cloudfur turned to see Sageheart and Doveflight, his sisters. The three siblings had little in common, save for their blue eyes. Sageheart was lithe like her brother, but not as tall. Her dark gray tabby pelt was courtesy of an unknown ancestor and had been a bit of a surprise when she was born. A strip of white snaked down her throat from her chin to the middle of her chest. Doveflight was light gray like their mother with a single patch of white on her chest. She was the smallest of the three but also the quickest, and her long, feathery tail streamed out behind her when she ran.

A playful growl rose in Cloudfur's throat. "Do you two need something, or are you just here to tease me?"

Sageheart held up a bloody paw. "Thought you might take a look at this," she purred, "but I could always come back if you're busy."

Cloudfur gestured for them to come closer. "For you, dear sister, anything."

"You really ought to be nicer to those poor kits," Doveflight said as Cloudfur slipped into his den to find the right herbs. "It's not their fault they're cooped up in camp all day."

"The sooner they're on the moors and out of my fur, the better," Cloudfur called over his shoulder. "They're a menace, and I'm seriously considering adopting Moleclaw's philosophy on them."

"Oh, they're just bored," Sageheart purred. "We got into a lot of trouble when we were bored too, you know."

Cloudfur emerged with a paw swathed in cobwebs. "Maybe," he admitted, "but at least we didn't try to poison ourselves."

"Only because of Doveflight," Sageheart said nudging her sister's shoulder. "You were never any fun as a kit. I swear, with the way you acted, I thought _you'd _become the medicine cat."

Doveflight narrowed her eyes. "I'll try not to be offended."

"Same here," Cloudfur huffed. He began wrapping Sageheart's paw with a wry smile. "Now, what did you do to yourself anyway? Fight a thorn bush?"

Sageheart smacked his cheek with her tail-tip. "We were hunting with Rufflepaw," she said. "I was trying to impress her, and I accidentally cut myself on a rock."

"Ah, yes, very impressive." Cloudfur finished his wrapping and leaned down to sniff it. "Okay, that should be fine. You'll have to rest it for at least a day for it to heal properly."

Sageheart scoffed. "You _really _think I'm going to rest?" she chuckled. She left the den, still laughing to herself.

Cloudfur and Doveflight shared a knowing look, and Doveflight rolled her eyes. "I'll look out for her," Doveflight groaned. "Leave it to me—boring, old, responsible Doveflight."

Cloudfur purred as she turned away and looked up at the setting sun. Just as Pricklekit said, that night was the Half Moon gathering, the meeting of the medicine cats. He was eager to get moving as his journey was a long one despite being the closest to the Moonpool of the four Clans. Cloudfur double-checked to make sure that no cat needed him in camp. He saw Doveflight had made good on her word. She and Sageheart were stretched out beside the fresh-kill pile, relaxing in the last few rays of sun. It was good to see hard-working, dedicated Sageheart finally resting for once. As he watched, he saw Addertail, a pale ginger tom, approach the two of them, and a growl rose in his throat. He'd known for a long time that Addertail was interested in Doveflight, and though the tom was a respectable warrior, he couldn't bring himself to approve. His sisters were his to protect, and he wasn't about to let some tomcat muscle into their lives. He was about to storm over and break up the little gathering when he heard a voice calling out to him from the nursery. It was Lichenfur, the kit's mother, who looked furious. He got a lecture about scaring her kits, but once he told her what they were doing in his den in the first place, the blame quickly shifted. He could hear her scolding her them over his shoulder as he left, purring in amusement.

Once he was out on the moors, he began to run. His long legs made it easy, and he made short work of the territory. Silverpelt was beginning to creep in when he reached their border. He didn't have much longer to go to the Moonpool, and he was beginning to get excited.

"Cloudfur!"

He skidded to a halt with a low growl. He turned and saw a patrol of Ruddystar, Spiderpelt, Batwing, and Runningpaw approaching, the dying light setting Ruddystar's ticked pelt ablaze. He had served as Ruddystar's medicine cat for a year now, and he found the tom to be almost annoyingly pleasant. He was always the first to call out a greeting in the mornings or the first to offer his congratulations at the birth of a new litter of kits. He was everywhere all at once, with a smile on his face and a purr in his throat.

"Hello there," Ruddystar purred as he approached.

"Hello yourself," Cloudfur replied.

"Looking forward to the Half Moon?"

Cloudfur huffed. "I'll never get there if I keep getting interrupted," he grumbled. He looked over Ruddystar's shoulder to Batwing, a sleek black tom with massive ears like the wings of his namesake. "Your son tried to poison himself earlier."

Batwing nervously purred and flattened his ears against his neck in embarrassment. "Sorry, Cloudfur," he said. "I-I-I'll ask them to stay out of your den from now on."

"It's fine," Cloudfur replied. "Lichenfur gave them an earful about it."

The patrol collectively purred, and Spiderpelt nudged Batwing's shoulder. Spiderpelt was his father, and the two were nearly carbon copies of one another, save for Batwing's ears. "She's a spitfire, your mate," he purred. "I knew I liked her."

"We ought to get going," Ruddystar said. "We don't want to delay Cloudfur anymore than we already have." He flicked his tail, and the patrol began to move out. "Say, Cloudfur," he said before he joined them. "When you see Moleclaw, will you ask him about a she-cat named Brindlemask? She's a friend, and I heard she was carrying kits, so—"

Cloudfur waved his tail. "Got it."

Ruddystar looked a little surprised by his interruption but shook it off. "Right, sorry for keeping you," he chuckled. "Travel safely!"

Ruddystar jogged to catch up with the patrol. Cloudfur staid to watch them for a moment. As he lingered, Runningpaw, the dark brown apprentice, glanced back at him with a strange look in his eyes. Cloudfur felt a little shiver run down his spine. There was always something a little odd about him, but Cloudfur had never voiced his concerns. Runningpaw was the son of Raggedfur, the deputy and a well-respected member of the Clan. Still, Cloudfur couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to something.

Sure enough, Cloudfur saw Runningpaw say something to Spiderpelt before sprinting away from the patrol. The hills swallowed him up, and he was gone.

"That's not strange at all," Cloudfur grumbled. He scolded himself and turned away. _I don't have time to chase after him_, he thought. _I'll be late as it is. _

To Cloudfur's surprise, he wasn't the last one to the Moonpool, but nor was he the first. He smelled ShadowClan on the breeze and purred as he thought of Onespot sitting alone in the clearing. Onespot was a very strange tom in his own right, but the Half Moon seemed to bring out the worst in him.

The small tom jumped as Cloudfur approached. Every hair on his thin pelt stood on end. "Who's there?"

"Relax, Onespot," Cloudfur purred as he padded into the clearing. "It's only me."

"Oh, Cloudfur, hello," Onespot said, dipping his head in greeting. "How are you?"

"Well enough." Cloudfur settled beside the Moonpool and wrapped his long tail around his paws. "You're early as usual."

Onespot brightened as though he'd been complimented. "Ah, yes, it's always good to be early," he said. "Far better to be early than late. I don't like to be late for anything. It's rather rude, don't you think?"

Cloudfur nodded, accustomed to Onespot's behavior after seasons of knowing him. The two were around the same age—Onespot being slightly older—and had been apprentices together. Onespot had never been normal, but the death of his mentor, Frogfoot, had caused something inside of him to snap. He often muttered to himself and suffered from extreme anxiety. He had even cut off his own tail after being bitten by a dog for fear of infection. Now it was a mere fluffy stub.

"Speaking of late," Cloudfur said. "I guess there's been no sign of the others?"

Onespot shook his head. "No, nothing. I hope they get here soon. I don't like to be out of camp for too long. Olivepaw has a nasty cough, and Bluestripe's kits are due any day now." Onespot shuddered from head to toe for seemingly no reason. "Maybe I should get an apprentice," he said. "They're helpful, right? Sure you have to teach them, but at least there's an extra set of paws around."

Cloudfur flicked an ear to stifle his comment. He couldn't imagine a ShadowClan cat having the patience to be Onespot's apprentice. "I think you should wait on that," he said instead.

Onespot nodded, his eyes narrowing at the ground. "You're right, you're right," he muttered. "Too early. But I like to be early. Better early than late." When he looked up, his ear twitched, and he tilted his head to the side. "I hope the others get here soon."

"Keep your fur on," a new voice growled, causing Onespot to jump. Cloudfur turned to greet their new guest while Onespot recovered from his near heart attack. Into the clearing strode Moleclaw, the ornery ThunderClan medicine cat. He was notorious for his nasty temper and sometimes delayed treatment to cats he wasn't fond of, which almost always included kits and apprentices. He nodded to Cloudfur before narrowing his eyes at Onespot. "I smelled RiverClan behind me," he said. "Lilypool will be here soon, and then you can crawl home to your rat's nest."

"Moleclaw," Cloudfur hissed warningly. "Leave him alone."

Moleclaw let out a purr and began curling and uncurling his tail. "Oh, we're only kidding each other, right, Onespot?"

Onespot swallowed loudly. "Yes, just a joke," he forced out. "I knew it was a joke, Cloudfur. I don't mind jokes."

Still unconvinced, Cloudfur glared at the older tom before shifting his gaze to the slope behind him. He could barely make out a ginger and white figure, and his heart skipped a beat. "I can see Lilypool," he said, trying his best to keep his voice level.

The other two toms followed his gaze. "Looks like there's some other cat with her," Moleclaw said. "I didn't know she was taking an apprentice."

They watched as the RiverClan cats grew closer and closer. All the while, Cloudfur struggled to breathe. Lilypool was one of if not _the _most beautiful she-cat in the whole forest. She was on the small side, but she made up for her size with an imposing demeanor that commanded attention. Her fur was as white as his but had dark ginger splotches. Her long, fluffy tail brushed the ground when she walked, and her fur rippled like water over smooth stones. Her mere presence made him more nervous than a new apprentice in a badger set. She arrived in the clearing with a soft purr and warm smile.

"I'm sorry we're late," she said, gesturing with a flick of her tail to the small tom behind her. "Flamepaw isn't used to traveling such long distances."

It was the first time Cloudfur had really paid any attention to the other RiverClan cat. The tom was lean and thin, with tufts of kit fur still showing on his dark ginger pelt. He had bright green eyes and a familiar look about him that Cloudfur couldn't place. He settled beside his mentor and wrapped his white-tipped tail around his paws. He looked a little nervous, which was to be expected at his first Half Moon.

"Well?" Moleclaw said. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Yes, where are my manners," Lilypool chuckled. "Everyone, this is Flamepaw, my apprentice. Flamepaw, this is Onespot, Moleclaw, and Cloudfur." Lilypool held Cloudfur's gaze for a brief instant before turning away, and that small interaction made Cloudfur's pulse race. The three toms said their greetings, and Flamepaw sat up a little taller. "Flamepaw was only apprenticed a few days ago, but he's learning fast," Lilypool said with no small amount of pride in her voice. "He helped me deliver a litter of kits the other day."

"Won't be long until he's a more competent medicine cat than Onespot," Moleclaw growled. Both Cloudfur and Lilypool shot him dirty looks, which he completely ignored. "If you queens are done chatting, let's get down to business."

With that, he padded towards the Moonpool. Lilypool nudged Flamepaw to his feet, and the other medicine cats followed Moleclaw's lead. Cloudfur still had a biter taste in his mouth. He hated how rude and abrasive Moleclaw could be to poor Onespot, who had done nothing wrong other than be slightly different than most cats. Snorting, Cloudfur brushed past Moleclaw to stand beside Onespot instead, although the gesture seemed to have absolutely no effect.

Cloudfur crouched down and took a satisfying gulp from the Moonpool. The water was icy cold, and it relaxed him, dragging a sigh from his throat. He backed away as sleep crept into his eyes, and he had barely curled into a ball when the world went black.

Wind whipped at Cloudfur's face and brought the heavy scent of smoke. The sky was black overhead, and a dark cloud had engulfed the moor. He could hardly see his whiskers in front of him. He took a shaky step forward and coughed as the smoke burst into his lungs. His eyes stung with irritation.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

Heat burned at his pelt. There was a fire nearby, but it was too dark, and there was too much smoke for him to see. He struggled to breathe as his limbs began to tremble. "Hello!" he called again, this time louder. "Answer me!"

"_Cloudfur_!"

He spun towards the sound of his name. He recognized that voice! "I'm here!" he shouted, his eyes now firmly squeezed shut to keep out the smoke. "I'm here! Help me!"

"_Cloudfur_!"

His heart was pounding in his ears. "Mother!"

"_Cloudfur, watch out_!"

A weight dropped onto Cloudfur's shoulders and knocked the wind out of him. He was helpless as he felt teeth close around his neck and dig deep into his skin. He thrashed and struggled and tasted blood in his mouth. He could feel the life draining from his veins. With a jerk of his head, his attacker sent Cloudfur flying, and he landed on his back, looking up at the dark sky.

_Is this my death_? He wondered. _Is this how it ends? _

A hazy figure appeared over him, and everything went black.

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